Porcelain
by Shoujo Junkie
Summary: Beauty is in the wiping of dust, the careful painting of lips and eyelashes, the delicate sewing of ballet slippers. It is in the simple but beautiful fairytale love between a red-haired toymaker and his little ballerina doll, who came to life dancing under the moonlight. It is in the eternal dance between him and her in the cherry blossoms, in life and in death. AU Sasosaku
1. In Porcelain and Moonbeams

**Disclaimer: How on earth could I own Naruto? I do not own 'Last Carnival', 'The Little Prince' or 'The Steadfast Tin Soldier' either!**

**A/N: Hey everyone! This story is not a mash story, so it is something new of mine. I was inspired by Norihiro Tsuru's 'Last Carnival', a beautiful European-esque instrumental with an absolutely gorgeous violin and piano in it. I really encourage you to check it out! You won't regret it! There's no words to it, but if you listen to it as you read this, you'll get the exact mood of the story I was aiming for. I'll explain more of how I interpreted the song at the end. **

**I was also partially inspired by the fairytale of 'The Steadfast Tin Soldier' after watching clips of Disney's Fantasia. Sadly, there's no tin soldier in here, but there is a lovely young toymaker to replace him :D And I've also been rereading 'The Little Prince' again, so if you catch a little Prince reference here or there, it comes from my love for the little golden haired prince :D**

**Enjoy and please, review!**

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><p><em>In Porcelain and Moonbeams<em>

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><p>He was a toymaker. With his pale, skillful fingers, he made thousands of toys; tin soldiers, painted horses, bouncing balls, jack-in-the-boxes with their coils and springs, golden haired ragdolls and their frilled dresses. With his fingers, he could easily have taken on a more skilled trade that would've brought him more food to the table than the simple loaf of bread and cheese downed by a glass of water. Perhaps a musician of some sort. A pianist, or a violinist. But it never occurred to him that he could've done so. The handsome young man had his toys to make.<p>

He made toys for the children, whom so often came down to the village square just to gape through the clean windows of his little shop at his lovely toys garnished with silver bells and golden lace and everything in between. They pointed at the painted wooden swords and shields and begged their mothers to buy them for twopence each. Too often, they were denied until Christmastime or birthdays, and during those times his little shop was filled with brightness and laughter, and he allowed himself a small plum pudding at dinner as a reward.

But other times, his shop was silent and dark, save for the sunlight that poured through the clean windows on a sunny day. 'Master Sasori', he often heard the children call to him outside the windows, begging him to perhaps give away toys he no longer wanted. The pale skinned, black haired man smiled at them but made no reply, and with no answer, the children soon departed. Sasori turned to his latest creation.

She was a dainty little bone china ballerina, as long and slender and white as his index finger. For now, she was completely bare and unpainted. A mere porcelain skeleton, covered with a layer of porcelain dust. He dampened a towel, and gently cleaned her. He made sure to clean behind her ears and under her chin, between her delicate fingers and behind her ankles. Finally satisfied, he set her down, and she posed prettily, her legs crossed and on her toes, and her arms curved sideways before her.

He tipped a tiny brush in black ink, and outlined two almond-shaped eyes, and a tiny, pouting mouth. It was a painstaking process to paint a doll so small so perfectly, but Sasori did it, and when he was done, he saw that it was already past his bedtime.

Pleased with his progress, he said, "goodnight," to his little doll before setting her on the windowsill of his bedroom where the moonlight shone in, so that he could see her at all times, and quietly went to sleep.

As the handsome young toymaker slept, with tousled red hair in his eyes, something strange was occurring on his windowsill. The moonbeams seemed to shine even brighter with each passing moment, and they made the ballerina gleam with an ethereal light. The light seemed to go inside her, and suddenly, a dainty finger twitched.

The bone white fingers separated from their previously locked hold, and the ballerina bent and unbent her slender legs, shaking the stiffness out of them. Her lips parted, and she pursed and relaxed them. She moved her arms and rotated them, then cocked her little head on both sides and turned it.

Then, she began to dance on the windowsill.

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><p><strong>AN:**

**Hello everyone! Let's talk dolls and fairytales in this chapter!**

**Starting with dolls, I had in mind a mix of a BJD-doll and a Bisque China doll. Imagine the face of a BJD doll (they're so beautiful, go google it! It will blow your mind :O) with no eyes (No holes! That'd be so creepy) and nothing painted on. Like an unpainted Bisque doll. The doll is white, and is about as tall as a pencil. Right now, the doll has no hair, no eyes, no lips, clothes, nothing. A bald, naked doll. haha!**

**For fairytales, I really do love 'The Steadfast Tin Soldier'. It's such a beautiful and sad love story. I can't believe there's no Disney film made for it. It's perfect material for one! In the story, at midnight, the toys come to life. In this one however, she comes to life purely by moonlight and magic. **

**Please review! -hands out skittles-**


	2. In Green Glass Eyes and Porcelain Dust

_In Green Glass Eyes and Porcelain Dust_

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><p>Sasori woke to a few slivers of sunlight that had been gradually easing its way across his eyes. He stretched, and blinked several times, coaxing his honey amber eyes to the light. Then, he got up, and looked at his windowsill.<p>

There, on his windowsill, the ballerina was dancing. She did elegant little swirls and dips, positions he could faintly recall from performances at the village square; she did pirouettes and arabesques all across his wooden windowsill, her little porcelain body outlined by the morning sun.

In complete disbelief, he rose from his bed. Noticing his movement, the doll stopped dancing and turned to him. The white and black-lined lips curved in a dainty smile.

"Good morning, my toymaker." She told him, and her voice reminded him of the tiny clinking of china and the tinkling of little silver bells. "Good morning."

Sasori could only silently approach his windowsill and stare at the porcelain doll, which moved and talked as if alive. It couldn't be possible.

"It is quite possible, my toymaker." She said. She seemed to have noticed his disbelief. "At least, for a little while. Now, shall you paint me?"

"H-how are you alive?" He finally asked, still utterly thunderstruck. He reached out towards her as if to see that she was real, and not from a dream. Smiling, the doll slowly approached his hand, and stepped onto his smooth palm.

"Oh! I don't know, my toymaker, but it seemed as if I woke up from a deep sleep, and I simply thought that I should dance." The little ballerina answered matter-of-factly. "But I thought too that I am bare. Now, shall you paint me?" She asked again hopefully.

"I have a name." Sasori said. "My name is Sasori."

"My Sasori," The porcelain doll nodded in approval. "Now, shall you paint me?" She asked again, this time impatiently.

Sasori agreed, and carefully carried her over to his workshop, where the paintbrushes and jars were neatly aligned. She wrapped her arms gently around the tip of his thumb. She felt cold and hard, as porcelain should, but her touches were gentle, like the flutter of a bird's wing across a cheek.

He set her down on his large wooden desk. She climbed down from his palm and tiptoed quietly across the surface before settling down in the middle of the table.

"What should I paint first?" Sasori asked her.

"If you please – draw me my eyes." She answered, speaking slowly, as if speaking of something of great consequence.

"What?"

"My eyes," The doll said. "I should like some eyes. Please give me some lovely eyes."

Sasori said, "Alright,", and dipped his brush in the sky blue paint he so often used to paint his ragdoll's eyes. The doll's face contorted with rage at the sight of it, and she stamped her dainty porcelain foot angrily.

"No!" She said as loudly as she could. "I do not want blue eyes! Why must you give me blue eyes? They are just like the rest of your dolls – they all have blue eyes! I am not another one of them! After the moonlight shone down on me and I started to dance for you without knowing why I should dance or must dance at all on your window sill – and you try to give me the same eyes as the other dolls do…and you think that is alright!" She began to weep, for her little porcelain heart, if there was one at all, could only hold one emotion at once and magnified it. She was gripped with the simple, fierce need to be unique above all his other toys and be his very own special doll, and be the only one loved by her toymaker. It was an emotion between jealous and rage and yearning that was far too much for her, and so the little china ballerina cried tears of porcelain dust and stamped her little feet.

Sasori did not know what to say. He scooped her up gently into his palm with a finger and rocked her, saying, "I will give you a special set of eyes. I will give you eyes that are a different color. I will –"

The porcelain doll, still completely bare, without lips, eyes, hair, or clothes, suddenly seemed quite beautiful to him, in all her small-hearted selfishness and her small-hearted desire for his love.

Sasori brushed his red hair out of his eyes, and carefully wiped away the tears of china dust from the doll's eyes with the corner of his handkerchief. Then, with his other hand, he searched around the table for his flat glass beads and his pot of glue.

The doll watched, sniffling quietly as he let her climb off his hand and set to work. With care and precision that he had never used in his life before, he painted two perfect black pupils, and chose a lovely jade color for her eyes. He painted the glass with the jade paint, painted the bottoms with the glue, and gently pressed them onto the porcelain ballerina's face.

Then the ballerina, tiptoed to the mirror, gazed at her new jade green eyes made of glass, unlike the plain, painted blue ones of the other dolls, and gave a lovely peal of laughter that pleased Sasori very much. For a long time he watched her dance happily and beautifully all over his desk, because he knew he had appeased her and perhaps had regained her love as well.

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><p><strong>AN:**

**Hey everyone! For those who've read The Little Prince by Antoine Saint-Exupery, you'll notice the scenes reminiscent of The Little Prince, such as the prince's little tantrum, his demanding for his sheep. It is really one of the loveliest, saddest, most beautiful stories you'll ever read in your life, written for children or not. If you haven't read it, by gods you've been missing out on one of the best books in life.**

**Please review!**


	3. In Pink Rosebuds and Vanity

_In Pink Rosebuds and Vanity_

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><p>Over the next day and night, Sasori had given her a little bed, the prettiest one from all the ones he made for the little village girls to place in their dollhouses. He painted it white, and gave her a sheet of the reddest cloth he had as her blanket, for she was quite a vain little doll.<p>

In the mornings and afternoons, she would dance for him, with her pirouettes, her arabesques, and her little leaps over his windowsill and across his desk, and sometimes across the counter when there were no little children watching through the shop's clean windows.

Sasori thought he came to love her as much as she loved him, for she was his only dancing, talking doll in the whole world, and he was her only Sasori and her only toymaker in the whole world. She was bare but for her jade eyes, which fluttered like butterfly wings whenever she looked at him, and her gaze made his heart grow warm.

Soon, however, she came to yearn for more than her green glass eyes, her white bed and her red blanket. She wanted lips.

She told him so, and Sasori said, "Alright", because although he found her beautiful even with only her lovely jade green eyes, he wanted her to be happy. He looked at the rest of his dolls, whom all had dark red lips, wide and thin, and thought she would want them differently.

"Their eyes are blue and flat," The ballerina was saying scornfully as he surveyed them. "They are not beautiful like mine. None of them are as wonderful as I am." And her little heart was filled with vanity for a while as her toymaker chose the color of her lips; a lovely rose pink.

She went near him and pursed her little porcelain lips for him as he painted them in the shape of a blossoming rosebud, and it seemed very much so a rose with its pink color, and he finished the work with a brush of glaze. Then her lips were like a pink rosebud with a bead of dew on one petal, and Sasori thought she was even lovelier than before.

"You are beautiful." Sasori said.

The ballerina truly smiled at him, because she finally had lips to curve, and not just the outlines of a mouth. "Because you made me so, my Sasori." Then she took his fingertip and kissed it, and gave a lovely peal of laughter that pleased Sasori very much. For a long time he watched her dance happily and beautifully all over his desk, because he knew he had pleased her, and his own love for her seemed to grow.


	4. In Cherry Blossom Trees and Silk Thread

_In Cherry Blossom Trees and Silk Thread_

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><p>Over the next week, Sasori learned that while he was away, for example, purchasing vegetables at the market, or visiting the art shop for new supplies for his toys, his ballerina disliked his other dolls very much, and liked to harass them despite their lifelessness.<p>

"None of you deserve to sit here," He heard her say viciously one day when she did not notice him enter the room. She shook a threatening porcelain finger at the ragdolls with golden hair. "He did not create you to love you, unlike myself. Just because you have hair that I do not have does not mean you are special!"

"I have returned," Sasori decided to announce, walking into the room and placing his freshly purchased bread on the counter. "What are you saying to them, little doll?"

But the ballerina did not answer him. She waltzed across the counter and leaned against the coin tin. "I am so bare still, my Sasori." She lamented as he neared her. "I have pretty pink lips and pretty green eyes, but still those dolls have more."

Sasori blinked his black eyes and looked at his ragdolls. Their heads were covered in locks of pale gold. He knew she wanted hair.

"Give me hair, my Sasori." The ballerina confirmed, and he knew if she wanted hair, she would not want it gold like his ragdolls. He looked around again. His wooden puppets had brown hair, and his tin soldiers had black. He himself had red hair, and his jack-in-the-boxes had orange.

Then, Sasori looked out the clean windows, and saw that the cherry blossom trees were in bloom. He thought that he would give her cherry blossom pink locks, to match her jade green eyes. He sat down at his desk and took out two tiny spinning needles, his most expensive and precious white silk thread, and white and red dye. His ballerina watched, fascinated, as he mixed together the dyes until he found the perfect shade of cherry blossom pink, and poured it over the white silk thread until it glistened. Then he began to make a wig, with a thin wax base and netting, threading the pink silk repeatedly and cutting it until it became a fine wig of long, glistening pink hair.

The ballerina allowed him to glue it onto the top of her head, and she was obedient and quiet as he pressed as gently as he could all over her porcelain head so that her hair would stay.

And when it was done, Sasori cried out in wonder, for she looked far more beautiful than any being in the world, and it pleased him to know that she belonged only to him, his only dancing ballerina doll in the entire world, and his alone. And to her he belonged, only her, only to the only dancing ballerina doll.

"You are beautiful." Sasori said again.

The ballerina smiled at him, and ran her slender white fingers through her silken hair. "Because you made me so, my Sasori." She answered again, and went to admire herself vainly at the mirror. Then she gave a lovely peal of laughter that pleased Sasori very much. For a long time he watched her dance happily and beautifully all over his desk, because he knew he had pleased her, and he knew he loved her far beyond the love between a toymaker and his toy.

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><p><strong>AN:**

**Hello! Yes, before this point, the doll was indeed bald in case someone forgot. But it's okay now, she's got hair! :D**

**Please review!**


	5. In Red Silk and Black Lace

_In Red Silk and Black Lace_

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><p>Over the next month, Sasori was very happy when he discovered that he had at last made enough money to buy cloth for his doll's clothes. After reassuring her one morning that he would return quickly and telling her to remain in her little bed, he departed to the fabrics merchant with his woven shopping basket hanging on one arm.<p>

At the merchant's booth, the handsome, amber eyed man, oblivious to the longing stares of the village girls, carefully selected a bolt of fine crimson silk, red tulle and black lace, and made his way home. Along the way, he thought to himself that he would make her a lovely ballet dress with a red silk bodice and romantic tutu, trimmed with black lace. The thought of it made him smile with eagerness, and all around him the village girls blushed.

He reached home, and hurriedly entered his shop to begin work on the dress. Sasori was met happily by his lovely doll, who twirled and leapt about in greeting.

"I will make you a dress." Sasori told her. "It will be finer than anything I have ever made or worn."

The doll smiled then, and for a moment she seemed to glow with joy. She said nothing, but allowed him to work as she silently danced across the top of his desk, watching him trace, cut, and sew the silk together.

Soon, a pretty little bodice was formed from the red silk, and he sewed onto it the red romantic tutu, laced in black lace and layered with red tulle. Then from the remaining fabric he stiffened and sewed together two dainty little ballet slippers no larger than the nail on his thumb, and with the red silk he made the two ribbons that would lace the slippers to his doll's legs.

His little doll laughed in joy and danced and danced wildly, in complete bliss with her wonderful new clothes. Now, she was truly a little porcelain ballerina. Clad in her red tutu and dainty red slippers, she twirled and soared more elegantly than ever before. She put swans to shame with her grace as she danced and danced in thanks and praise to her beloved toymaker.

"You are beautiful!" Sasori cried again.

The ballerina smiled at him again, but it was a smile far more dazzling than the smiles before, for now she was complete. "Because you made me so, my Sasori." She answered again, and tiptoed up to his lips, and kissed him. It was porcelain against skin; cold and hard, and of course, her lips could never envelop his own as a human girl's would, but Sasori knew he would never have it any other way.

Then she gave a lovely peal of laughter that pleased Sasori very much. For a long time he watched her dance happily and beautifully all over his desk, because he knew he had pleased her, and he knew he loved her with the kind of love that existed between a man and his woman.

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><p><strong>AN:**

**Hello everyone! Let's talk ballet clothes for this chapter!**

**In ballet there are different types of tutus used for different effects. I won't mention all of them, but some include the pancake tutu (the super stiff, flat one that sticks out like a pancake), etc. The one Sakura has is called the romantic tutu. Yes, it is not some random cheesy thing I made up for this already cheesy story ;D the romantic tutu is often used for ethereal ballets, like for the ballet 'Giselle'. It's still slightly stiff with tulle, but it's much flowier and much longer than a regular tutu. It's supposed to be ethereal, so it reaches down right below the knees and flows. **

**And instead of white, I thought I'd use red. Red to match Sakura's original character clothing, and also because the doll is already white, it'd just clash and it'll be ugly. **

**Please review! -hands out lollipops-**


	6. Of Snowflakes and Eternal Beauty

_Of Snowflakes and Eternal Beauty_

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><p>It was near the end of the year, and snow had begun to fall. Having never seen snow before, his doll was very much excited and curious at the strange white flakes that came from the sky.<p>

"How pretty they are!" She praised. "But they are fleeting…" Her jade green eyes followed the trail of a particular snowflake close to the window, with it finally landing and melting on the cobblestone street.

"That is why they are sad," Sasori told her as he wiped his desk. "And therefore, I do not like to watch them. True beauty is eternal. But you may watch them as you please, little doll."

Her silence made him turn to look, and something sank in him at the sight of her in despair. "What is wrong, love?" He hurried to her and scooped her to his chest, cradling her.

"Then I am not beautiful," She began to weep little tears of porcelain dust. "Because I am not eternal! Perhaps I shall melt away too, like that snowflake."

Sasori let out a relieved laugh. "Of course you are. You are not made of snow, you are made of porcelain. Of course you are beautiful, little doll."

She had stopped weeping, but she was silent for a while. "Are names eternal?" She finally asked.

"They are if we remember them, little doll." Sasori answered.

"Then I should like to have a name."

And Sasori thought to himself of the most beautiful flowers in the world, of which gave him inspiration for her lovely pink hair, and said, "Sakura will be your name.", without even once thinking of the lifespan of the flower, and how tragically short it was.

"Sakura," Sakura approved. "It is a lovely name, and it will be mine." And then she gave a peal of laughter that, although unheard by her beloved toymaker, seemed tinged with a hint of sorrow. And when she began to dance, although unseen by her beloved toymaker, each step seemed to be followed by a certain emptiness…


	7. Of Gifts and Broken Hearts

_Of Gifts and Broken Hearts_

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><p>It was spring again in the little village, and Sasori watched through his shop's clean windows as little gusts of wind blew hundreds of petals off the cherry blossom trees and into the air. Some landed on the ground in messy piles, but some were light enough to be carried off by the breezes, and disappeared into the distance…<p>

Sasori turned to tell Sakura of the blooming trees and how nice they looked, and saw that she was dancing again, but more slowly and mournfully than she had ever danced before.

"You are not happy," He accused as he went to her.

But she said:

"You came to tell me of the cherry blossoms and how prettily they have bloomed." Sakura twirled on one toe, and stretched out a slender leg behind her. She did not smile.

"How did you know?"

Sakura did not answer his question. "Some blossoms have drifted off with the wind." She said. Then, sadly – "…tonight I shall too…"

Sasori realized clearly something terrible was happening. He rushed to her and scooped her up gently but urgently with one hand, brought her close to his chest, and felt as if he would cry. But although Sakura was pressed to him, he felt as if she were falling into an abyss that he could not ever follow.

Sakura looked at him, and her gaze was more serious than he had ever seen it, and he never thought she could be capable of such a look, with all her vanity and selfishness and love in that little porcelain heart.

"I have the glass eyes that you gave me. And I have the pink lips. And I have the red silk dress and slippers…" And Sakura gave him such a sad smile he thought he would burst out in tears. "I am so grateful, my Sasori."

"You are not leaving." Sasori said, but he could not convince himself.

"Oh, my toymaker…I am afraid." The sad smile disappeared. "The thought of it is so terrible. But I shall be much more afraid this evening when the moon shines again on your windowsill."

Sasori felt as if his heart would tear open. He knew, but he could not admit it, what was coming that night, but he could not bear the thought of never seeing her dancing upon his desk, of never seeing her sleeping in her little white bed, of never hearing her lovely peal of laughter that pleased him so. For him, his love for her was like his plum puddings on empty days, the sunshine through his clean windows, and what could have been if he had chosen to be, perhaps, a violinist. It was his happiness.

"Sakura, my little doll," Sasori said, "I want to hear you laugh again. I want to see you dance again."

But Sakura told him what he knew and never wanted to hear.

"Tonight, it will be a year…the same moon on that evening that gave the light…and made me dance." Her green glass eyes fluttered like the wings of a dying butterfly. "It only loaned me that light. I should return it."

"No, no," Sasori shook his head. "The moonlight was a gift! You should dance forever. You should dance for me forever. Please, tell me this is all a bad dream, and that I should awake tomorrow to see you dancing on my windowsill in greeting, as you always have..."

Sakura laughed, but unlike her usual laughter that sounded of the clinking of porcelain, it reminded Sasori of the breaking of china. "My toymaker, you shall think of me when you see the cherry blossom trees and their petals, because that is where my name and hair will be."

"Yes, I will…"

"And you shall think of me when you go to market to buy red silk and tulle, because that is where my clothes will be."

"Yes, I will…"

"And you shall think of me when the snow falls on Christmas day, because that is where my delight will be."

"Yes, I will…"

"And you shall think of me when you look at the moon and its light, because that is where I will be." She paused. "It was possible, if only for a little while." And she laughed, and Sasori began to weep.

"Ah, Sakura, my dear little doll, my ballerina, how I love to hear that laughter!" He cried, and Sakura caressed his fingers in an attempt to comfort him.

"You have given me so many things, my Sasori, toymaker." She told him seriously. "But I have given presents to you in return."

"What are you saying, Sakura?"

"Everyone can enjoy the cherry blossom trees, or the snowflakes, or the red silk and tulle, or the moon." She told him. "They are all different for people. For children, the snowflakes are for play, and they rush about to make snow angels; for adults, the snowflakes are a hindrance, and they hurry to make fires. For the merchant, the red silk and tulle are for profit, and he sells them for his dinner. For others, the cherry blossom trees are for admiration, for they come and go so quickly, and leave piles of pink petals in the village square…"

And Sakura laughed again, and her pink rose lips seemed to bloom.

"I do not know what you mean!" Sasori was frustrated. All he could understand as that his little doll was leaving, and that he would never see her dance again.

"In the cherry blossom trees, and the snowflakes, and the red silk and tulle, and the moon, I shall be dancing and living! You will be the only one who will have a dancing doll in the pink petals, in the snowflakes, in the silk, and in the moonlight. It will be as if I am always there, because the trees bloom in the spring, the snow comes in the winter, and the silk and moonbeams are there all year 'round. And you – only you, will be the one to have a dancing ballerina in them all!"

Sakura laughed again, and kissed the tips of his fingers. And for once, her lips seemed soft like rose petals, and almost warm…

"And when you are not sad anymore, you will be happy to have created me. You will be content to have given me these green glass eyes, rose pink lips, cherry blossom hair, and red silk dress. You will always love me. You will always want to watch me dance. And perhaps you will try to make another one of me, but you will resist, for there can only be one Sakura."

She was serious again. "I know that I am happy that you have created me. I am content with my green glass eyes, rose pink lips, cherry blossom hair, and red silk dress. I will always love you. I will always want to dance for you. And perhaps I will think of travelling away in the moonlight to love another, but I will resist, for there can only be one Sasori."

Sasori wept, for her words had done nothing to console him. But they carried truth, and in his heart he accepted them. He brushed a finger down her lovely pink hair.

"Tonight – you should not watch me." She said, more serious than ever now.

"I will not turn away from you."

"It will look as if I am dying, suffering. It is not worth your sadness, my Sasori. It hurts me to see you weep, and you are sad enough."

"I will not turn away from you."

But a thought seemed to reassure her. "But then, I will still be beautiful, much more than your other dolls…"

And finally, Sakura too wept, and for once, her tears were not porcelain dust, but real human tears.

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><p><strong>AN: Will Sakura die or not? O.O Is she really dying? She's only made of porcelain, she's not human. Could she die? I don't know. YET! Hah :D**

**If you remember what she said in Chapter 2, 'It is possible, if only for a little while', here she repeated it again. 'It WAS possible, if only for a little while.' Yes, she knew it was bound to happen. But what is the 'it'? I'm sure you guessed and know, like Sasori. **

**Please review! :) It fuels my passion to write!**


	8. In Goodbyes and Broken Porcelain

_In Good-byes and Broken Porcelain_

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><p>It soon became night, and the moon steadily grew brighter among the darkening clouds. Sasori felt fear shake his very body. He watched his little doll dance and dance on her windowsill. Her dancing was growing slower and slower, as if her limbs were stiffening…<p>

"My Sasori," Sakura suddenly said. She took a gentle step forward. "It is time."

Sasori began to weep, knowing that it had come at last, to take his doll away, to a place he could never reach. He stretched a hand out toward her, to stroke her hair once more, but instead, she stepped onto his open palm.

"Sasori," The little doll whispered, and little tinkling chimes of clinking china echoed in his ears. "Tonight, you should not watch me."

"Sakura, I-"

"Sasori," Sakura said again, her green glass eyes dulling, her voice low and serious. "You should not watch me." Taking gentle steps upward towards his shoulder, she reached towards his eyes. "Sleep now, my toymaker. Sleep."

Before Sasori could turn away, her fingertips brushed his eyelids, and suddenly the irrepressible feeling of sleep swept over him like a soft wave of warmth, bringing with it a gradual darkness in his vision. He fell backwards, softly, quietly, slowly.

"Good-bye, my toymaker." He heard his little doll's voice as the weight of her little slippered feet somehow left his shoulder.

"Good-bye."

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><p>As the handsome young toymaker slept, with tousled red hair in his eyes, the little doll danced its way to his windowsill. As she stepped into its light, the moonbeams seemed to shine even brighter with each passing moment, and they made the ballerina gleam with an ethereal light.<p>

The bone white fingers stiffened, and the ballerina's slender legs grew rigid in place. Her lips pressed together, her arms raised above her head, hardened. The moonbeams suddenly seemed to come out of her.

She grew still on the windowsill, and with the gentlest of gusts from the window, toppled over, and broke into a thousand pieces on the stone floor.

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><p><strong>Hello everyone! Sorry about the suuuuper long absence, lots of stuff has been happening and only now I finally got past my writer's block and business to finish this story up!<strong>

**This story is NOT OVER YET. Still one more epilogue :) I guarantee you it'll be a happy ending!**

**Thanks for reading and please PLEASE review! My writing is fueled by reviews :)**


	9. In Broken Toys and Floating Petals

_In Broken Toys and Floating Petals_

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><p>He was a broken man. With his pale, skillful fingers that used to make thousands of toys; tin soldiers, painted horses, bouncing balls, jack-in-the-boxes with their coils and springs, golden haired ragdolls and their frilled dresses, upon the loss of his beloved ballerina, his little doll, his Sakura, he destroyed all that he owned.<p>

In his all-consuming sorrow and rage he bent the tin soldiers and broke their legs, he smashed the painted horses, he pierced holes in the bouncing balls, he broke the coils of the jack-in-the-boxes, and he tore the golden hair of the ragdolls and ripped their frilled dresses. In all his sadness and heartbreak, it never occurred to him to continue on.

The children, whom so often came down to the village square to gape through the clean windows of his little shop, ran away in horror at the sight of the toymaker, maddened with loss, throwing ink and wood chips at his windows, destroying his handmade toys. Bewildered and frightened at the once admired red-haired man, none dared to go near the once lovely toy shop.

Now, his shop was silent and dark, and not even the sunlight would pour through the windows, for now they were broken and stained with grime and old ink. His bed was torn, the feathers strewn everywhere, his food rotting and his tools covered in dust.

The poor toymaker sat, leaning against the one untouched place in the wrecked shop, his windowsill. He no longer moved away from it unless to eat and drink just enough to stay alive.

A year passed like that, and when the trees in the village square once again bloomed with cherry blossoms, the poor heartbroken toymaker, who no longer worked to pay for his rent, was forced out of his shop, and thrown like a broken toy under the cherry blossom tree in the center of the village square.

Under the tree that gave his beloved doll her name, Sasori did not move, did not eat, and did not drink; only staring up at the cherry blossoms, quietly, softly. Villagers passed by and pointed, perhaps to taunt or jeer, or to feel pity for the broken man, not knowing what had happened in the little shop. Sasori made no reply, and with no answer, the villagers soon departed. Sasori's gaze turned to the sky, and it was already dark.

A lone petal floated down, and Sasori caught it with an open palm.

"_My Sasori._" A sudden whisper echoed. But as soon as it came, the all-too-familiar voice disappeared.

"My little doll!" Sasori cried, but received no reply. Another flower petal drifted down, and he caught it as well.

"_My toymaker._" Her voice came again, and Sasori turned to see a glimpse of cherry blossom pink hair, as soft as sink, flutter by.

"Please!" The toymaker wept, and took another floating petal from the air. A pair of emerald green eyes flashed like butterfly wings before him. "_Sasori_."

Another and another petal he caught, one after the other, crying aloud for his beloved doll. "Sakura!" Sasori cried at the vision of his beloved doll, now tall and humanlike, smiling softly. "Return to me, little doll. Do not leave me alone, in my wretchedness and suffering!"

He reached out to her, but the vision faded, and the cherry blossoms fell from his open hands. "No!" Sasori despaired, falling to his knees. "No, no!"

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew, and the clouds shifted, and revealed a single ray of blue-white moonlight, shining down upon the cherry blossom tree. The wind blew stronger and stronger, until the petals fell from the tree, and whirled around the toymaker, as if an embrace.

"_Why would I leave you alone, my toymaker?_"

Sasori turned to the beam of moonlight, and gaped at the sight before him. "Sakura, what-"

"_Hush, my Sasori. Have I not returned?_" Sakura smiled. But she was no longer a doll, but a human, whose skin was as white as porcelain, and glowed as if dipped in moonlight.

Sakura laughed, and Sasori felt the stars in the sky above grow brighter.

"Ah, how I love to hear that laughter!" He cried, and gently touched her warm, white skin, her soft hair like silk, and her eyelashes that fluttered gently over emerald green eyes.

Sakura laughed again, the sound of tinkling china echoing as his fingers grazed her warm lips, soft as rose petals.

"Will you not stay?" Sasori pleaded. He held her arms tightly. "Stay, my little doll, stay!"

"_I cannot stay,_" Sakura smiled, her lips blooming like roses. Gently, softly, her hands went around her beloved toymaker's neck.

"_But you can come._"

All at once, Sasori felt the beam of moonlight course over him, ruffling his tousled red hair, warmth and peace rushing through him like liquid. The brightness clouded his sight, and he could no longer see Sakura, but he felt her soft fingers around his.

_"Walk with me." _Sakura's voice seemed to flow around him, like a whisper of wind. And he walked with her, on cherry blossom petals, towards the moon and its ray of light, with his beloved doll, her human hand in his.

"_Dance with me, my Sasori._" And so he danced with her, pirouettes and arabesques, away into the moonbeams, silently, softly, until the wind blew and the clouds closed and the moonbeam faded away.

The cherry blossoms lay unmoving, on the still body of the red haired toymaker, whose eyes had closed and his lips frozen in a smile, eternally with his beloved doll.

_True beauty is eternal._

_We are beautiful, because we made us so._

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><p><strong>And so we are at the end of this romantic fairytale :) Again I highly encourage readers to listen to Norihiro Tsuru's "Last Carnival", a European style violin instrumental, which inspired this fic. This chapter is an allusion to the ending of the song, where it seems to end but the song picks up and goes on again.<strong>

**I did my best to express love without actually making use of the word, although I did in the fic, I tried to use it as little as possible. Hopefully the love shined through!**

**And see if you can spot all the references I made to previous chapters! :D I tried to be as subtle as possible kekeke**

**Thanks for staying with this story! :) and for waiting so long! Reviews are highly appreciated for future fics!**


	10. Credits and Thankyous

Hi everyone! This Is just a tiny little note to give cred it to all my inspirations for this tiny little story. I'm grateful to all those who reviewed and genuinely touched to all those who said they cried from this story. I never expected that because my writing's so amateur! Thank you!

I give inspiration credit to:

**The Little Prince/Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery**: This beautiful miracle story is one of the best on earth in my opinion. For those who haven't read it, DO IT. This takes credit for some of the writing style, which I adored in this novella. This also inspired the personality of Sakura as a doll.

**Last Carnival by Norihiro Tsuru:** This gorgeous instrumental practically inspired the entire plotline just from me listening to it. The story literally formed visually as I listened to it and I just had to put it on paper. The plot of the story follows the feeling and tempo of the song almost exactly. I highly encourage people to check it out!

**The Steadfast Tin Soldier**: I don't know why I was thinking of this as I wrote the story because the plots couldn't be more different, but I guess a bit of it's in there! I really loved the heartbreaking ending of the two toys who died to be together in death forever.

**The Little Match Girl: **This partially inspired the setting, and also inspired the ending. Like the little match girl who lights matches to sustain a vision, is eventually taken away to heaven by the vision of her grandmother, and no longer has to suffer in the cold. Like the girl, Sasori grabs the cherry blossom petals (it's symbolic too) until a vision forms and Sakura takes Sasori's spirit with her to be together for eternity.

**BJD dolls:** I owe the appearance of Sakura to these beautiful, eerily lifelike dolls. If you've never seen them, be prepared to be mind blown if you do check them out.

**Naruto:** And definitely to Naruto! The story's way OOC for Sasori and Sakura, but where else can I find a handsome toymaker? The accidental 'black hair' slip up in chapter 1 if anyone noticed was totally because I was considering Sai for the toymaker, but realized that he only painted and Sasori was much more suitable. However I'm far too lazy to correct the mistake. Hehe.

A big shout out to all my reviewers (at this point in time) not in any particular order, **Leontinees, Anella, Tinselplease, KagomeAngel91, princesa-Sherezade, RainingNothing, Arandomkonohaninja, Achlys, DeidaraLuver, Linda Chicana, Black-footed, the-ugly-friend, frankiegrande,** and **dedeiblueeyez** for all the love, tears and support!

A new story may emerge soon! Stay tuned~!


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